Come to Africa to see our underwear.

This is our washing machine. It looks remarkably like a concrete sink because that is what it is. It is "operated" (as in everything is handwashed) by Mebo, the housekeeper who comes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday.  It is supposedly by the back door.  Since most of the foot traffic to our house is from the parking area that is in the "back," the back door is functionally the front door.

So the wash gets done three times a week and is hung on twine that is attached to the back porch posts.  Largely at throat level for me, I might add.  It takes 24 hours to dry.  Are you getting the picture? We have our wash hanging on the line right in the traffic pattern to our house 6 days of the week.  Visitors have to literally (in the most literal sense of the word) duck under our underwear to get in the door. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP. 

I have to cover for this social faux pas by telling Tanzanian visitors that this is a Washington state/American custom.  Welcome people to your house by hanging out your underwear that they have to duck under when they enter your house.  Sort of like ristras in the American Southwest.* I tell American/European/Australian/New Zealand visitors that it is a Tanzanian custom.

* A ristra is a string of red chili peppers that were originally hung up to dry and were stored this way for use until the next chili harvest.  It gradually became a "welcome sign" that people hang on fences, patios, and entryways. We had them hanging by our front door in Albuquerque.

Great Expectations

I initially thought the drivers in Tanzania were very aggressive.  Now the motorcycle driver's are not aggressive.  They are insane.  I am talking about the car drivers.  They put the nose of their car out into traffic so the highway traffic has to stop to let them in.  Same for making right hand turns in heavy traffic (remember we drive on the left).  I have come to understand those behaviors as being necessary in this large town with somewhere around a half dozen traffic lights in total. One puts the nose of the car out there to "request" entry into traffic with an expectation of benevolence and charity towards other drivers.  This is a hard place to drive so cooperation helps a lot. A braver scenario is passing when there isn't room to pass. The oncoming traffic will slow up to avoid a crash. It is also common to see the passing car straddle the middle of the road while the other two cars move toward the shoulders to create 3 lanes on a 2 lane road. Drivers flash their lights to indicate "please" and "I am making a maneuver to allow you in." For the most part, I don't have Great Expectations of cooperation so I don't nose into traffic much.  Sometimes you just get desperate, though. I doubt I will ever be able to pass head on into oncoming traffic and assume they will avoid crashing into me.

This has nothing to do with my topic but I though a nice photo of a multi-generation herd was more fun than a photo of a traffic jam. Lake Manyara National Park.

Selian Hospital Chapel

My work days have a lovely start. Every morning at 7:30 the staff meets for chapel.The liturgy is matins, Sala ya asubuhi, The chaplains start right on time. The congregation doesn't. The attendance at the start is about a quarter of the attendance at the end which is pretty African.

The speakers are sometimes the chaplains and sometimes hospital staff. They are all inspirational. At least they sound that way, not that I can understand what they are saying. It is all in Swahili so I know about 5% of the words. The typical homily sounds something like, "You .... because ....... this ...... God.......we....three  etc." The ellipses contain 95% of the words.

The reason I like chapel so much is the singing. Imagine going to church where the whole congregation is in the choir.  They sing a cappella harmony. It is fantastic and not like anything I have ever heard anywhere else.  I can't hear 4 parts.  I think the men and women sing the melody or harmony.  Their three part harmony sounds so different from Euro-American harmony.  My musician sons would be able to hear it and know what they are doing differently. I don't know, but it is so African. On top of the harmony, some male or female descants are thrown in.

Some hymns are imports from the German/American Lutheran hymnal.  "Yesu ni rafiki yangu" is "What a friend we have in Jesus," translated into Swahili.  Other hymns are pure African.  Most are sung all together.  Some are antiphonal with the two halves singing different parts.  There was one call and response hymn during communion that a staff member just started singing.  She belted out her flawless soprano part and the congregation would respond in 3 part harmony, of course. It was one of  those exciting, shivers-down-your-spine moments. Absolutely fabulous.

The other great thing about singing hymns and liturgy is that the words come at me slower so I can keep with them.  Even the Lord's Prayer is spoken so quickly that I can't mumble fast enough to keep up even with it written right in front of me.